


Dissonant Verses

by wordslinging



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 18:26:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10668279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordslinging/pseuds/wordslinging
Summary: The evolving, intertwining stories of Oranni Mahariel, Hero of Ferelden, Marian Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, and Adalanna Lavellan, Herald of Andraste.i.e. a place to collect all the little bits of Dragon Age fic I've been writing.





	1. taking over this town (Alistair/Mahariel)

**Author's Note:**

> Dramatis personae are [here](http://meletelegacy.tumblr.com/dacharacters). Rating may go up, list of characters/pairings involved may expand, and tags may be added as I go along.
> 
> First up, there's a meet-cute in Ostagar and me just running with the fact that Oranni came out of the character creator with resting about-to-cry face.

The new recruit Duncan sends to him in Ostagar is a Dalish--girl? woman? She's a little thing, but for all Alistair can tell she might be no younger than him. Her dark hair is short, her blue eyes are wide, and under the gently curving lines of ink on her face is an expression like someone's just said something cruel to her and she's caught between surprise and trying not to cry.

But she wears her rough leather armor and the two long daggers on her back like she knows what she's about, and there's something in her eyes, or maybe just something he can sense as a Grey Warden, that tells him she already knows the darkspawn and their taint.

Her name sounds like water trickling over stones when she says it to him--Oranni Mahariel.

"You know, it just occurred to me that there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens," he comments, and it's true on both counts; he's only ever seen a handful, but he's never given it much thought until now. "I wonder why that is?"

She blinks those huge eyes at him and asks in a tone of neutral curiosity, "You'd like to see more women among the Wardens, then?"

"Would that be so terrible?" Alistair asks, and then it occurs to him how she might be taking that sentiment. "Not that I'm some drooling lecher or anything. Please stop looking at me like that."

Her brow is furrowed, but it doesn't strike him as disapproval so much as puzzlement, as if she's trying to figure him out. Alistair could tell her there's not much to figure--he's an idiot. He comes to Ostagar determined to make Duncan proud and serve as a good guide for the initiates, and the first time one of those initiates happens to be a pretty girl he trips over his own tongue and probably convinces her he's either a lech or a fool.

And Maker, but she is pretty, even wearing a face like someone's just kicked her in the shin. She studies him for another moment, and then the corners of her mouth curl up. She smiles tentatively, like she's not used to it, but it doesn't strike him as the smile of someone who thinks he's an idiot, at least.


	2. there's a ghost in my lungs (Hawke/Anders)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooo. My Hawke is a warrior who supported the mage rebellion wholeheartedly, but broke up with Anders after the Chantry Boom, which is, as you might imagine, complicated. Some negativity about Anders and the relationship here if you're sensitive about that.

Preparations for the mission to Crestwood are underway--information they already have on the area being gathered, Scout Harding and a small vanguard force dispatched to secure a foothold in the area. In the meantime, Hawke makes herself comfortable at Skyhold, seeming largely unconcerned with the stir her presence causes. 

She keeps company with Varric most often, but this evening when Adalanna enters the Herald's Rest she finds Varric embroiled in a game of Wicked Grace at one of the common room's central tables, and Hawke over in the far corner with Cullen, of all people. As Adalanna makes her way toward them, their conversation seems businesslike but cordial.

"Is there anything else you can tell me?" Cullen is asking as she comes in earshot.

Hawke gives him a speculative glance. "Not about Corypheus, but I _did_ want to mention how good you're looking." Cullen shakes his head with a sigh and a little half-smile, and she holds up a hand. "No, I'm not joking. This, all of this--" she makes a vague, sweeping gesture, indicating his appearance and their surroundings, "It suits you. Better than templar life ever did, if you want my opinion."

"I--thank you," he says, seeming surprised and gratified. "I'm proud to be a part of what we're doing here." 

"I'm happy for you," Hawke says, smiling at him over the rim of her cup. "I mean that, Cullen."

"Serrah Hawke." Cullen stands, bowing his head to her. He comes face to face with Adalanna as he turns, and as always, his expression changes subtly when he sees her. She knows she's not imagining that, she just doesn't know if it means what she wants it to mean. He inclines his head again as they pass each other. "My lady."

"Commander," Adalanna replies with a warm smile, and then looks back at Hawke. "I was hoping we could talk some more, but I don't want to bother you."

Hawke shakes her head and gestures to the bench across from her. "I'd like to get to know you a bit better myself, Inquisitor. Or is it Herald?"

"It can just be Lavellan if you like, or Adalanna," Adalanna tells her as she takes a seat. "It's nice to be called by my name rather than a title, now and then."

"Isn't it, though?" Hawke agrees, lifting her cup again. "So, Adalanna, was there something in particular you wanted to discuss?"

Adalanna bites her lower lip. "Well, actually...I understand if you'd rather not talk about this--"

Hawke gives her a knowing look. "You want to ask about Anders, don't you? That's how everyone gets when they want to ask me about Anders, and Maker knows it's what I'd want to ask if our positions were reversed."

"All right, yes," Adalanna concedes, and leans her elbows on the table. "The _Tale of the Champion_ is somewhat ambiguous as to what happened between the two of you after Kirkwall."

"I _told_ Varric he should have just made up a good ending for us," Hawke says, sitting back with a crooked smile that doesn't quite touch her eyes. "It's...complicated. I thought it was best to end things between us after what happened in Kirkwall, but I wasn't about to walk away from the mages' fight for freedom, so we were still part of each other's lives. We've worked together over the past few years, and we still care about each other, but we've never gotten back what we had before. I'm not sure we ever could."

Adalanna's brow furrows slightly. "But if you still care about each other, and you support the same cause…"

"It would be nice if that was all it took, wouldn't it?" Hawke asks, bitterness creeping into her voice. "What he did...I understand why he did it, and maybe there was no other way, but I've never been able to…" She swallows hard and then looks directly at Adalanna, her eyes wet. "Do you know what it's like to look at someone you love and see a city full of rubble and corpses? Or know that he lied and manipulated you, and he'd do it again if the cause demanded it of him, and that cause is so much bigger than you both that you can't even say he shouldn't?" She looks away, shaking her head, and downs the last of her drink before saying, "Anyone who ever tells you love can surmount any obstacle is a damned liar. Remember that, Inquisitor."

"I'm sorry," Adalanna says, feeling the inadequacy of the words. She's been fascinated with the tale of the Champion of Kirkwall and her rebel apostate lover since she first heard it, but this makes it not-a-story-anymore in a way that not even getting to know Varric these past few months has done, her fascination rendered naive and childish in the face of Hawke's very real pain.

Hawke gives another quick shake of her head, sniffs, and closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. "It's all right," she says, and when she opens her eyes a moment later, they're steady and clear. "I do have much more entertaining stories I could be telling you, though. Ones that involve me delivering perfectly-timed one-liners while looking devastatingly attractive."

Adalanna smiles. "Well, by all means. I could probably learn a thing or two from you on that front, I've never had much of a knack for one-liners myself."

"Oh, that won't do at all," Hawke says, a smirk starting to grow on her face. "Right, my lady Lavellan, let's get ourselves another round of drinks, and then class is in session."


	3. steel your heart (Cullen/Lavellan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cullen/Lavellan for the prompt "things you said when you thought I was asleep". Takes place after the conversation in the chapel between the Temple of Mythal and the final fight with Corypheus.

Cullen wakes when she slips out of his arms and leaves the bed--he can tell she's trying not to disturb him, but they're so closely entangled it's a futile effort. He lies still and keeps his eyes closed as he hears the faint susurrus of her donning a robe, then the sounds of her padding across the room and opening the balcony door.

They'd retired shortly after she found him in the chapel, but not slept for a long time after that. Fear--his of losing her, hers of not being equal to the task ahead--had left them both raw with need, hungry for comfort and determined to make the most of whatever time was left before duty pulled them apart again. Cullen doesn't regret delaying sleep for that (very much doesn't regret it, he thinks, remembering her low cries as she'd come apart under his mouth and hands, silken hair twined around his fingers as she'd moved over him kissing every scar she could find), but she also needs rest. There have been too many meetings lately where she was clearly struggling to attend to the details of her advisors' reports, too many evenings where she's joined her companions in the Herald's Rest only to sit listless and quiet, loathe to give up the company but too exhausted to properly enjoy it. 

He's about to get out of bed himself and see if he can coax her back when he hears movement from the balcony. Ada makes a soft, startled noise, and Cullen goes tense, mind instantly calculating how many seconds it will take to reach his sword and then her side, before she says in a gently chiding tone, "Cole, we talked about this."

"You're hurting," the spirit-boy--more boy than spirit now, apparently, but still strange--says, and Cullen can picture him suddenly perched on the balcony railing or tucked in the corner, broad hat brim shadowing his face. "It's too loud for you to sleep." Then, hesitantly, as if he's still not sure he's doing this part right, "Do you want to...talk about it?"

Ada sighs deeply. Cracking an eye open from where he lies on his side, Cullen can see her through the open door, her back to him as she leans her elbows on the railing. "I know what it will do to him if I don't come back," she says so quietly he has to strain to hear her. "And I can't--there's no way I can avoid risking that. We can spend all the time we have left preparing, I can be as careful as possible, and I still might not make it. I can close holes in the sky, but I can't ensure I won't hurt the man I love."

Cullen's heart clenches, and only the thought that those words weren't meant for his ears keeps him from rising and going to her. This is all wrong--she shouldn't be worrying about _him_. He shouldn't be _adding_ to her burdens.

"No," Cole replies simply. "There's no avoiding the risk. But we'll all do our best. Stay close, stay ready. Keep you safe so you can save us all."

"I know," she says, and reaches a hand out of Cullen's view, presumably to where Cole is. "I know you will. Thank you, Cole."

They talk a bit longer, but Cullen can't make out the words, just low murmurs. When Ada turns to come back inside, he shuts his eyes and tries to relax his limbs. She slides back under the covers and nestles against his side, and he can't resist the urge to lift his arm and wrap it around her, pull her even closer as if he could press her body into his and keep her there.

Chilled from even a short time out in the night air and mountain wind, she snuggles into his warmth gratefully, kissing his bare shoulder. "I didn't mean to wake you," she whispers, but if she suspects he's been awake long enough to overhear her conversation with Cole, she gives no sign.

"It's all right," Cullen replies, fingers tangling in her hair as he cups the back of her head. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart."


End file.
